


A Future

by inbatcountry17



Series: The Commander and Central [3]
Category: XCOM (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 10:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8368834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inbatcountry17/pseuds/inbatcountry17
Summary: Years after the war humanity is well on its way to recovery. The Commander and his Central Officer attend the inauguration of the first self-sustaining megacity.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This can be seen as a prelude to the XCOM: Apocalypse AU I've been thinking about writing for awhile. No knowledge of Apocalypse is required to read this. 
> 
> I wrote this because I wanted to do a happier Commander/Central fic where they're comfortable in their relationship. All that angst in the beginning is long gone at this point. 
> 
> I never usually write anything remotely romantic, so this also doubles as a bit of practice for that.

“You want to dance?”

Weir almost choked on the punch he was drinking. He laughed a little, wiping his mouth. John smiled at him, tilting his head towards the dance floor where elegant men and woman were waltzing. Actually waltzing. He didn’t know people still did that.

“You know how?” Weir asked.

“No,” he acknowledged, “but I thought we could wing it.”

“They’d throw us out,” he said.

It was John’s turn to laugh.

“After all the fuss they made about you being here? Not a chance. At least not until you give your speech.” He squeezed Weir's hand tight at his cringe.

“I don’t know why they want me to. You’re better at the speeches. Besides half the City Council hates my guts,” Weir said. His eyes found Councilman Wilkes speaking with a group of reporters. The man would happily see him dead in a ditch somewhere. Even after all these years the paranoia that he was a threat to them hadn’t lessened at all.

“You’re still the man who got us here,” John said.

“I had help.” Weir gave John a small smile.

He wanted to kiss him. Only the watchful eyes of the people at the party kept him from following through. Neither John nor he were big on public displays of affection. They always hated it when it ended up on TV or some gossip magazine. Not that a lack of physical displays ever kept them out of gossip rags. They had been easy pickings since their marriage. It made him want to hide in their home and never come out. These people were lucky he agreed to show up.

“Maybe,” John said. “But you were the man with the plan. Not everyone has forgotten that. Your voice still carries weight, in part because you rarely use it. Your blessing would give Mega-Primus the auspicious start it needs.”

“It’s not like humanity has a whole lot of other options. The megacities are our last chance for survival as a species.” Weir finished off the last of his punch to shut himself up. Happy thoughts. This was a celebration, after all.

“If dancing is out of the question, we could go find a janitor’s closet.” John grinned at him.

Weir laughed hard at that. In the corner of his eye he saw a journalist capture it on camera. A rare shot indeed. He’d be well paid for it.

He tried not to let it bother him. John was trying to lighten his mood. He couldn’t let something like those vultures sabotage his efforts.

“A tempting offer.” It really, really was. “But I don’t know if my back could take that.”

John snorted.

“Yours could, mine couldn’t. Though, I suppose Leslie would kill us if I messed up your hair.”

“They would never find our bodies,” Weir agreed. His looked for the council’s PR woman in the crowd, one hand over her ear as she spoke rapid fire into her phone. When they arrived she had taken one look at him and dragged him into the bathroom to fix the absolute ‘mess’ he was. The woman was 5' 4" of terrifying.

The pair fell into a comfortable silence together. Observing the party. Neither of them had any desire to go over to mingle.They watched the people drinking champagne and smiling at one another, secured in the knowledge that this was the first step towards humanity healing. Weir wasn't sure he agreed with them. The possibilities of the future had always terrified him, to the point where he rarely stopped thinking of it. He didn't know how people could look forward and see anything but hardship on the horizon. That didn't mean they wouldn't get through it, of course. They _would._

He had to admit that a lot of that certainty came from having John at his side. As long as he was nearby he felt like he could face anything. Even with Asaru gone.

And though he wanted John to remain his Central Officer, Weir was glad he had accepted the position as Chief of Megapol. He was the best choice, and more than deserved it. XCOM was already waning again. It would continue to do so until another alien threat arose. John didn’t need to be dragged down with him.

Not that he saw it that way. He never would, and Weir loved him for that.

John knew him better than anyone else alive. He knew his many flaws, and still stuck around. To this day he was the most steadfast, honest man he had ever met. Before he had met John he thought people like him were mere fantasies. It would not be an entirely untrue statement that John had restored his faith in humanity, while at the same time making Weir a little more human himself.

He idly rubbed the back of John’s hand with his thumb.

"You have your speech, right?” The City Council would be summoning everyone to the stage soon. The cameras would be rolling and every living human, mutant, and android with access to a TV would see him attempt to inspire hope in people.

“I thought I’d wing it,” he said. They both knew he was joking. Weir had spent days writing, re-writing, and editing the damn thing.

John shrugged, “that’s what I always do. Keep your voice strong and try not to think about how corny you sound.”

“That’s why you’re better at speeches than I am,” Weir said. “I’ve memorized mine to death. I’ll be lucky if it doesn’t sound canned.”

John squeezed his hand.

“You’ll do fine.”

“I am a good actor,” he conceded. All those years of working undercover had given him a lot of practice.

“That’s not what I meant,” John said. He didn’t elaborate, but all Weir had to do was glance at him to know what he was getting at.

He may not have the most faith or hope for the future, but he had no doubt they would find a way to survive. They would fight tooth and nail for it. He didn’t believe it was in human nature to go down gentle. They were too much of a contrary species to just let go. They had already proven that.

“You’re right,” Weir said. “I think I can manage a little fire.”

John smiled, knowing.

“Commander!” Leslie popped up, disturbing their moment.

He cleared his throat, straightening up and letting John’s hand go.

“It’s time, I take it.” Weir almost ran a hand through his hair, but stopped at her sharp glare.

“It is, Commander. If you would just follow me, sir.”

He nodded, and turned to John one last time before departing. There was that look he always gave him. One Weir was more than familiar with. The look that told him that John had the utmost confidence in him.

Fuck it.

He pulled him into a kiss. It was quick and firm, and no less than ten cameras caught it. He barely noticed passed John’s encouraging smile.

“Good luck, Will.”

Yeah, he could do this.


End file.
